Heirlooms
by Heaven's Prayers
Summary: AU. Twins are separated at birth, and each receive a family heirloom. The girl, Leia Organa, obtained her mother's necklace. While her haunted father, Darth Vader, is left painfully unaware of his children. When a ghost's necklace appears on Leia, Darth Vader is furious. Can he accept the truth?
1. Prelude

**Prelude **

* * *

_**Mos Polis: Medical Facility**_

Obi-Wan Kenobi's fingers rubbed against the placid surface of a pendant. The jewelry entrusted to him by the late Padme Amidala. She died shortly after the delivery of her twins, Luke and Leia. He didn't know why she gave it to him, or what the significance held by the item was, but he kept it none the less. The last gift a good friend had for him.

He stared at her children, only hours old while her last words repeated themselves in an eerie echo; he couldn't stop their ring.

"_There's… good in him, Obi-Wan… I know… I know… there's still…"_

No matter how much he wanted to believe it, he couldn't. His former student and brother was _dead_. Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker wouldn't kill children. Anakin wouldn't turn his back on his sisters and brothers. Anakin wouldn't choke his heavily pregnant wife… but Vader would. That monster had suffocated his friend out of his own body. The body left empty with no trace of the former resident. Vader wore his skin proudly, as a camouflage and trophy, but the stranger couldn't fool Kenobi.

Anakin Skywalker was dead, and that was a fact.

He survived by his two children. The only hope left for a galaxy. The responsibility rested on two premature babies' shoulders.

He looked down at the markings hand carved into the japor ivory wood. Unfamiliar hieroglyphics etched and curved into its paleness. She was probably given the gift from a young civilian of her home planet Naboo; a small memento of her lost life. The little girl, soon to be Leia Organa and princess of Alderaan, would have this. Something of Leia's mother to be close to her heart. He placed it next to her little body and stroked her good-bye. He knew the likelihood of seeing her again didn't exist.

"May you live a strong life, Leia. The force will be with you always," he gave her one last bittersweet pet over her velvet head, and left to accompany Luke to his new home. The young princess would never be forgotten.

_**Coruscant: Hidden Medical Lair**_

Poison:dark, putrid poison seeped through Anakin Skywalker's veins. Words, which created the poison's entrée, dripped crimson red.

"_It seems, in your anger, you killed her…"_

Killed Padme? Impossible! He reached out to touch her soothing force signature. Her presence had always been with him, been a reassuring touchstone. Nothing. It… it was gone—vanished from this realm. She… she wasn't here anymore; the nail which sealed her coffin.

An unholy silence befell the room, then the cold truth of Darth Sidious' words.

Senator Padme Amidala was _dead_. The pain was unbearable. In a moment of unfelt before anger, he'd lost control and killed the ones he wanted to save. Their baby torn from life before it had begun, by none other than its father. The guilt was unimaginable. She was gone, his angel was gone forever, and the last thing she saw was her murder's merciless face. The fear in her eyes, the _horror_. The regret was unendurable.

_She. Was. Dead_.

As he wept and screamed without control, he heard the deep voice of a monster. It wasn't his, but a machine's: heartless, cold, dutiful. That is what he must become.

Poison, lethal and hateful spread throughout Anakin Skywalker, finally destroying anything good left.

No more Anakin. No more mercy, no more love, no more fear. Skywalker's world was void and had vanished. Only Darth Vader was to remain. Only his world was to become. The darkness was to be morphed into a man without care, without hesitation, without weakness.

A machine.

The fault of Skywalker was not to remain. Instead of love, there was to be hate. Kindness replaced with cruelty. Honor to be exchanged for baseness.

No more Padme meant no more Anakin, plain and simple.

He clenched his mechanical hands into tight fists. The galaxy shall know the unimaginable suffering just as he felt it. Retribution was the new order now, and nothing would break his grip.

The screeches and screams of shattering metal and glass under his pain were to be the universe's. Soon everyone will know it, _feel_ it. The day of the just was at end, the era of the Sith was to be born.

* * *

_Five years later  
__**Star Destroyer: Exactor**_

* * *

A brooding black figure stood posted at his usual spot on the bridge. He could sense all those around him and thus kept them in check. His Imperial ship would be nothing without order. His ears tuned in and out of the beeps, engine purrs, computer chatters and nervous murmurs. Lensed eyes looked out the windows ahead. Lonely space stretched before him further still. For the past three years, he's been on a voyage through space without cease. No matter how far he went into the void of space, it kept rolling out before him; an endless scroll of stars, asteroid belts, planets and galaxies.

"Lord Vader?" a shaken voice announced.

He turned his head, only to sense the fear thicken in each extremely aware man. Their emotions contented him. "Yes?" he growled turning to face the young lieutenant.

"We… we are approaching the Alderaan system, milord."

He turned away, "Begin standard procedures, Lieutenant Jungen."

"Yes, right away lord Vader," Jungen fumbled over his own feet then went to his orders.

Vader ignored the young man, a man far too young in his opinion to be on this ship. His mind quickly changed subjects. _What have you been up to, Organa?_ He mused to himself. This man was leading a suspicious group, formally Delegation 2000, now 'The Alliance'. He knew these schemes were more than unorganized and cowardly, but in fact planned and serious.

_**Alderaan: Capital City**_

When one held a title as infamous as Darth Vader, and he walked through a street, everyone parted and did everything to dodge eye contact and not stare. Windows closed and entire cities ran to a halt and families shivered together. Fine by Vader. Constant physical pain, emotional pain and frustration made him in no mood to socialize.

The dark lord winced as improperly bone-drilled prosthetics grinded into him with each stair. A massive staircase always seemed to accompany him to his off ship treks. Finally at the top; his mood fouler than when he landed.

With a small platoon of 501st Clones behind him, Vader walked his ways through halls into Viceroy Bail Oragana's private office. The middle-aged man stared above his glasses, realizing the intruder to be none other than Darth Vader.

He dropped his report and quickly stood, "Lord Vader! What an unexpected surprise…"

Vader raised his hand, "Spare me your pleasantries, Viceroy. I am here to discuss your group of rebels."

A stunned expression formed his face, "I have no idea what you are talking about…"

"Your Alliance, Viceroy!" Vader growled. "Formerly known as the Delegation 2000, a traitorous organization against the Emperor."

"I can assure you, we are no such thing. Simply and organized relief effort for those abandoned by the Empire. Entirely legal, approved by the Empire in fact! 'A charitable effort for the less fortunate' in the exact words!"

_Only said to please the public you lying parasite, _Vader spited.

"Oh? Does a relief effort need so many funds?!" he threw a holo-pad on Organa's desk.

Bail skimmed it over, skillfully hiding his fear for this leak. He looked at the Sith, "Everything is expensive now days, you must surely know this. You were present during the Clone Wars; things were cheaper then, surprisingly." He handed the holo-pad back.

Suspicion grew as the older man so comfortably referred to his past, and Vader took a threatening step, "I existed only at the end of those terrible battles, the one who ended them all. So, let's make this clear. Who exactly am I, Viceroy?" he growled.

Bail didn't flinch, not stunned by his ramble answer, "Vader, milord."

An approvable answer.

_Murder of Anakin Skywalker, the man you once were._

Darth Vader heard Organa's thoughts as if he had spoken them. So he knew the truth about his former identity: interesting. Vader didn't appreciate him having this knowledge, and wanted to thoroughly remind him who he was, encase he might ever forget.

The Viceroy's trachea constricted under the new Sith lord's infamous force grip. "I would be careful, Organa, you know not the path you've walked on." He released him, his dry cruelty remained. He pointed a threatening finger at him.

The older man, still catching his breath, rubbed the place where invisible fingers had lain.

"You and your Alliance will not be forgotten. I will be watching you and your unorganized gang of rebels. Until we meet again, _Viceroy_." He hissed out the last word and turned to exit, surprised to see Bail's wife, Queen Breha Organa, and a girl no older than six. The little girl Vader assumed to be their adopted child.

A cold beacon of terror beamed from Organa, he immediately went in between his family and Vader. His family wasn't supposed to be here. An unfortunately timed surprise visit.

"Lord Vader," Queen Breha gasped, clinging to the little hand of _her_ daughter. He'd lost that right long ago, she reminded herself.

"Your majesties," he 'greeted', confused with Bail's sudden surge of horror. Not a fear of having his family in the same room as Vader, but a higher level. A fear level that people have when afraid of getting caught. Why? Something was amiss here, and Vader knew it. Why not make Organa sweat, and maybe he'll get more information. Vader crossed his arms and stood back on his heels. "How is the new Imperial Healthcare treating your planet, Queen Organa?" Bail's fear declined with that, the discomfort still clear as he moved behind the child. So it wasn't his wife…

"How would you expect, milord? The quality in the hospitals has declined, and people wait half a standard orbit for a simple checkup," Her Grace smoothly answered, as if rehearsed.

"I see, surely you are not using the system correctly."

"Perhaps." Breha did everything she could to not say more.

So, Bail was not worried about his wife, clearly. Onto the child: "And who is this?" he said, gesturing to the girl.

Organa's fear zoomed again. Ah… it was the daughter. "Our daughter, Lord Vader. Who must be getting back—"

"Nonsense, Viceroy. And I know full well she is your daughter, it was a name I acquired after."

"Leia," all heads looked down to the little girl, who so fearlessly introduced herself. "My name is Leia," she confirmed, confused with their stares.

_Leia_… What his daughter would have been named—but surely there are billions with that name, surely…

"Leia?" Darth Vader hardly said, trying his best not to be consumed with grief. "What a beautiful name, young princess." _The most beautiful_… he hauntingly thought.

The sweat was now clear on Bail's face. There was something in the way the Sith said it, the way he was acting… Organa didn't know whether to go for his blaster, or stay nonchalant. But he knew each second Leia was around Vader was one step closer to him figuring it out. Bail knew they should have changed her name! Of course her father had a say in it… Vader was figuring it out now, wasn't he!?

Vader sensed Leia out, who was uncharacteristically calm for a child. Children cried when he walked into a room, she didn't. What was much more interesting was that she was a force sensitive. _Very_ force sensitive, but also _very_ untrained. Her overpowering signature timidly poked at his, an act of curiosity. She became bolder with each poke, as if remembering something.

Normally, Vader would have given her a harsh stab through the force to prevent further irritation.

But he didn't.

There was something so unforgettably familiar about her, from her eyes to her force signature… Something from long ago which he'd do anything to forget. He only stared at the girl, unable to move or truly think.

Even through the red colored lenses his mask held, he recognized: her dark eyes and her brown hair, rather wavy than curly. She was a cruelly perfectected twist of both his wife and mother. Haunting, far too haunting. He wanted to hate her—what she reminded him of, but he couldn't.

_If we were to of had our daughter, this would be her…_ he bitterly thought to himself.

Abruptly, he left the room, cape wildly flaring behind; the young princess never forgotten.

* * *

_**A**uthor's **N**otes:_

I have tapped into my alter ego writer. This story's muse has collected in my head for years, finally it decided to shine bright. The atmosphere will be much different from my other story. Please tell me what you think, I would really appreciate it.

**_Important:_** I hate to say it, but honestly, the continuation of this story will **_really_ **depend **on the reviews**. This is a **test** chapter, and if I post another chapter it means I will finish it, but only if my time will be spent wisely. Otherwise, I will focus **strictly** on _When Dreams Clash With Realities _(no, have not forgotten about it I swear!). So please, don't be shy! Just a line will help. :)

* * *

_(If there is chapter one)_ **Chapter 1: Death and Life**

The tenth birthday of Leia Organa. She receives a _very_ special gift.

* * *

Hope you have enjoyed this chapter, I greatly look forward to your thoughts.

**_God Bless,_**

_Heaven's Prayers_


	2. Death and Life

**1:****Death and Life **_(Five years later)_

* * *

_**Naboo: A Meadow**_

_Laughter roared alongside the surrounding waterfalls. Anakin chased Padme through the wildflower ruled meadow. Padme let out a half laugh and half shriek seeing her husband was gaining on her. She shall not be captured!_

"_Come, my love, you know I'll win!" Skywalker taunted his recently married wife, surprised with how fast such a small woman could run._

_Padme's options dwindled; she must find a way out… "No, I—" she stumbled and fell into the lush grass with a yelp. Her movement ceased._

"_Padme?!" Anakin called in a panic, no answer. He dove to his knees besides her, fear sculpted his face. "Padme, Angel," he gingerly turned her over._

_She smiled wide, victory. "Now we are even!" she sat on her elbows. His obvious worry made her smile wider. _

_He frowned, "Not even close… I nearly had a heart attack!" he whined. He took a double check of her for injuries._

_She laid back and lifted her eyebrows. "Oh? How could I ever pay you back?"_

_Anakin noticed her sudden change in tone, soon realizing where she was going. He gently straddled her, "I don't know. Heart attacks can be fatal." His thumbs stoked her soft cheeks._

_She laughed, seeing he picked up on her game change. Anakin's mischievous glint vanished, "I love you so much, Padme. So much— promise me you'll never leave," he whispered. Crystal blues eyes bored deep into her soul. His touch acted as if she would disappear._

_Padme didn't blink, "I promise."_

Vader awoke from a torturous dream. A dream which tortured him with a former life, a former love.

Fury racked his body. Every muscle ached in unison with his heart. What little sleep he got was always plagued with these once called dreams. He looked to a message board in his specialized chamber; perhaps something new tied to duty had been posted since he fell asleep. No such luck.

He pressed on his unmasked eyes. They saw the colorless world around him, the blinding lights and starch colors. His chamber was the only place in the whole universe his horrifying mask could be removed. The air was rich with oxygen, so what little his broken lungs could take would sustain him. Not that breath was worth much to him these days.

"Computer," he called with his real, cracked voice.

"Yes, lord Vader?" it chirped back.

"Lower my mask."

"Right away, master," and the machine proceeded with its job.

_Master_. What a cruel word that has been throughout his lifetime.

A slave calls his owner master.

A Jedi calls his teacher master.

And a Sith calls his possessor master.

There was one time he almost liked the word, and that was when he had a young student of his own. If researched, these few lines would be found of her:

_Ahsoka Tano: female, Togruta. Born 2,038,570 Cecta.  
Death (assumed living).  
Parents: Malia Cal (living) and Typho Tano (diseased).  
Former Occupation(s): The former Jedi Padawan of Anakin Skywalker. Left the Jedi Order in 2,038,587 Cecta.  
Current occupation: unknown.  
Current location: unknown.  
Status: unknown._

She disappeared from his life over ten years ago.

Of course those few lines didn't serve her justice. None of her heroic life was captured, none of her character, either. Ahsoka, or Snips as he nicknamed her, was his little sister and sometimes more of a daughter. She was smart, brave, patient, wise, and had the most amusing snippy attitude. He chuckled to himself at that while mechanical claws clamped down his prison.

His sudden thoughts on her brought back memories of a different universe— a different man. She represented all of the greatness and kindness of a dying age and Republic. All that could be destroyed in the hands of judgmental monsters. She was now just another light blown out by the ruthless Jedi.

"They've taken everything from me," he growled to himself.

_You've lost more than what they've taken_, a melancholy voice mentally sounded.

That voice—a bitter reminder of the truth, the quietest part of his soul. The part of Anakin he can't get rid of. No matter how hard he tried, that voice remained. He only angered Darth Vader more on this terrible day, the tenth anniversary of Padme's death.

He will never forget the anniversary his angels died. _Never_. The two most beautiful lights… Padme, the gentlest soul the galaxy cradled. Their unborn child, too; she would be ten now. Anakin Skywalker passed as well: burnt to ashes.

He stood up, onto his usual ritual for this day. To visit Padme's grave and tend to her resting site's garden, leave a bouquet of leias on her tombstone and weep until he doesn't think it's possible to continue, but still he does. Then… maybe this year, he'll finally join her. Maybe this year the suffering will end. Too much of a failure to die—there's a cruel way to this life, too cruel… far too cruel.

_**Alderaan: Palace**_

Dark brown eyes fluttered open. Leia noticed Spring Sparrows hopped outside her window, a rejoicing dance of a completed spring migration. Stretching, she sat up. Today was her birthday. She didn't expect gifts today. Ever since her seventh year she insisted no gifts be brought while people in the galaxy suffered. Rather, have the credits go towards those who needed. A few generous gifts came from neighboring planets, keeping good appearances for the princess' family. Leia never cared much for them.

Her adoptive parents waited for her at the table, eating a normal breakfast. Bail looked up from his news-holo, "Good morning Leia," he set his glasses and reading materials down.

With a kiss on each of their cheeks, she greeted them. "Good morning father, mother."

"Good morning dear and happy tenth birthday!" Breha cheerfully announced, producing a small wrapped gift.

Leia rolled her eyes. "I don't want this," her daughter blatantly refused.

"It didn't cost us a penny," her father put.

Curiosity replaced her annoyance.

"Go ahead, open it!" Her mother happily encouraged. Finally she would see Leia open a gift on her birthday without a complaint. What a strange child Leia is.

Leia's fingers gently peeled back the paper, revealing a small box. Within it was a long silver chain looped with a smooth white pendant. The pendant's landscape shaped by unknown carvings. Obviously it was handmade. "What..?"

"It was left with you when you were just a baby; we think it was your mother's, your real mother's."

Leia looked at her father, holding the pendant softer. "What was she like?" she eagerly asked. Finally her mother had come up.

Her father sat back; weary of each word. He had to keep this story so very vague. If she knew one detail too many, Vader could find her, or worst, the Emperor. But, how could he keep quiet about her mother, Padme? She was his Senator intern, and he watched her grown into such a wonderful woman. Amidala was one of his closest friends. The idea of having to keep her a secret seemed sacrilegious, a sin even. But, Padme would have wanted her daughter safe, and so she shall be. "She was very much like you. You're a clone of her, actually. She, like you, was a ruler; and her people adored her. Her rule… it can't be matched. Your mother served her duty bravely and in the purest of mindsets. She worked for a peaceful galaxy, cared about each life from clone to Jedi." Bail shifted at this part, "She fell in love with a wonderful man, and you followed. Ten years ago, she gave birth to you… soon passing."

Despite his vague story, Leia was enraptured by every word. Her sepia brown eyes saddened,"Was it my fault she died?"

"No! No, it wasn't Leia. She died of a bad heart; it had nothing to do with you." It's better this way, Bail reminded himself.

His daughter nodded and looked down at the most precious thing in the galaxy right now: her mother's necklace. "Thank you, this means a lot to me."

_**Tatooine: Waste Lands**_

Ben Kenobi, formerly Obi-Wan Kenobi, gazed at a twin-sunset outside his shabby hut. Had it been ten years since the most terrible day of his life? Apparently it had been, if the stars hadn't tricked him. Ten years of desert habitation, rather miserable years. Blasted sand pelted his skin and invaded ever crevasse. Guilt gilded time eroded his soul. Though only a decade, it felt a thousand eternities.

He glanced over to the west where Luke Skywalker lived. Today was his tenth birthday. Again, if the stars hadn't lied. Ben stroked his grey beard. Muses focused on Luke's father at age ten. So much like Luke, eerily so. Sometimes Kenobi swore Luke was Anakin when he saw him. The hopeful blue eyed, blonde haired and nothing but energy Anakin he had to somehow train.

How he had hated those days than, and envied them now. All the things he would change. All the times he would show his brotherly love to Anakin so the man he became was not so lost and desperate. Not so cold and miserable… If he could go back: _if_.

He strode back into his hut. Nothing could change history. Only the future can be affected. Ben was determined to not fail Luke as he had his father. Luke wasn't going to be separated from his Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen, wasn't going to be trained until much later in his life. No pressure on how he is the only one who can end the sith's reign. There was a change. He would live a decently normal life, oblivious to his own importance. Perhaps that is why his father fell. The stress and cockiness of being 'The Chosen One' affected his self-discipline. Luke would have none of that. Already Luke's future was being changed, Obi-Wan could only hope for the best. The force could only grant him so many do-overs.

_**Naboo: Capital City, Theed**_

The silence at his wife's grave possessed an eerie holiness. No creature or element of natured disturbed it. They even acknowledged the sacred resting place of beloved former queen, daughter, senator, friend, wife, mother to be. Padme was someone important to everyone. She was his _most_ important someone; his entire universe. No, she was more— she was his gravity. Tied to her since he first saw her; she made his life full of purpose, love, and kindness. It wasn't fair! She hadn't deserved to die! He should have died. He should be gone and her living. Force knew he had earned it. If he could trade places, go back—he would burn a thousand times over to undo his past, his mistakes.

Vader knelt on her grave. The unseen weights forced him down. A choked sound came from his mask, the only outside sign of grief, of anguish.

He closed his flooded eyes. The holy silence was broken by a light breeze sweeping over the remote lake. A whisper of the lost carried with it.

"_Anakin,"_ she whispered.

He cringed in agony. His insanity always teased him.

"_Anakin, please help me."_

Vader nodded his head in denial. "No, I cannot help you." He pleaded more than told. Her voice was strongest here, when he had nothing else to hear but silence. The faint whispers no louder than the breeze carrying it. Padme's plea felt lost in darkness with no destination, it also seemed trapped. He didn't understand it. Jedi teachings held legions of dead communicating with others. But Jedi lie, and so do their lessons:

_There is no death, there is the force._

Ah, the most painful lie. He'd felt death—oh yes, death was quite real. The rawness and frigidness of its talons that ever hold their grip. The force was nothing but a tool to use, not a refuge to understand. Death was as real as the memorial he kneeled upon. His deceased wife's voice was not of her, it was impossible. This was merely the torturous silence playing tricks—it had to be. The trees rustled again.

"_Anakin," _she repeated.

He stood up, eyes fixated on the etched letters of her name: _Padme Naberrie Amidala_.

"No! You're dead—I've failed you! I cannot help you or our lost child!" he screamed gripping guilt. Seastorm-blue irises now looked down further: _Beloved queen, senator, daughter, sister, and mother._

"_Please…"_

The wind swirled around him, laughing. He looked further down the tombstone: _Taken from us, but never to be forgotten_.

"NO!" He cut off every sense he could, closed his eyes, held his breath, stopped the force.

The whispering wind stopped.

_**Star Destroyer: Executor**_

The imperial men noticed the change in Darth Vader immediately. Once he reboarded the _Executor_ he walked oblivious to the world, head hung low in thought. His men had never seen him so... _solemn_. The entire crew held their breath and attempted to not step on each other's toes. If lord Vader was quiet, so shall they be. His moods were quite infrequent and deadly. Someone will probably die today; choked because of some insignificant toil.

After Vader ignored the greeting and update from his leading officer, he continued on his course to his private corridor. He went to his hyperbaric chamber. His mask removed and pod closed, he just sat there with staring at some all telling air or tile. Nothing moved, and time passed in large amounts without recognition. Vader's entrapped mind resulted in the unnatural stillness.

_(Sometime later)_

A red light flashed to alert an incoming call. An annoying beep accompanied the flash, but Vader had lost senses some time ago. Eventually, he noticed the notice. First, he cursed the name of the solider who dared to call him until he noticed the signal. The realization of the contactor sent a chill into Vader.

_The Emperor_.

Of course he would contact him today, the worst of all days. Vader quickly put on his mask and answered his Sith Master. "Master," he lowly spoke while kneeling on his one of his bad knees. The pain shot up instantaneously, begging him to reposition. He could sense his master was not pleased. The thin slit of his sickly lips confirmed it.

"Vader," he curtly snapped. "How nice of you to answer. Where you indisposed?" His voice raised, in one of his many false emotion tones. Almost sincere, but Vader knew his master better now after ten years of service.

He scrambled for an answer, "No, milord, I…"

"Two rotations, Vader! I've been attempting to contact since Empire Day."

Panic sunk in. Two rotations? Had he really sat there that long? The darkness emanating off of Sidious let Vader know he would be punished, _severely_.

"I apologize, my Master—"

Sidious' anger reached zenith. "Enough!" he cracked, Vader sensed the slithering fingers of his master's force weave and sift through his thoughts. Sidious then sent volts of electricity through his apprentice. Vader withered in pain but remained silent. Somehow his master had mastered this technique of force electricity from so far away, and that it wouldn't harm his life sustaining suit. "I sense your thoughts are elsewhere…" the cloaked monster's voice went flat as he ended the electricity, "Focused on that wife of yours… Ah yes, ten years. How depressing." No emotion but sarcasm laced his tone. Vader heaved over his knee, straightened. Smoke rose from his suit and the pain pulsed through him.

"How long will it take you to get over her, Vader? You could have any other woman, but you choose to wallow over such an annoying one. 'Democracy' this and 'justice' that," he waved his hands to the words. "She knew nothing of power. But you do, Vader and you chose power over her. Even the brat she carried." Sidious chuckled, "Quite amusing Vader, that you are still so infatuated with that whore since you wanted power more."

Sidious continued on and on, and Vader hung his head low. He attempted to focus elsewhere but pain deemed it impossible. His master was right; he had chosen this miserable existence over his family. He sat here listening to his master's hateful words to his angel and child, with no power to stop it. Sidious was a sadistic puppeteer he chose instead of Padme. He thought the darkness could save her from death, but instead it brought death to her. Vader heard silence as Sidious concluded his spite speech.

"I apologize, my master," he answered through pain.

"Good." Sidious sighed and leaned back in his black leather thrown, sith eyes glowing under his hood. "A Jedi has been found, one associated with the Rebellion. You must exterminate this pest, but only after having stripped its mind for any valuable information. Am I understood, lord Vader?"

"Yes, my master." Vader bowed more. Sidious' lips twisted into a smile. Oh, how he loved to belittle and control his dutiful slave. All too easy. The transition went blank as the details for Vader's new mission were sent. He contacted Captain Jungen. His image soon appeared.

"Yes, lord Vader." Jungen's face remained calm, in the five years working with Vader, he had learned a lot. Number one: never show fear in the hardest circumstances.

"Set our new course to the Onderon system," he grumbled, his head pounding from the pain.

Jungen nodded, "Right away, lord Vader," and the holo ended.

* * *

_**A**__uthor's __**N**__otes:_

I hope you have enjoyed this! It was a very delicate work to write, but I relished every second of it. The chapters in this story are beefier than _When Dreams Clash With Realities_ and denser too. I really want to keep it up, but I soon realized it takes more time than I expected.

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Your support and encouragement ensured this story's continuation! **I cannot thank you guys enough**! I am _ecstatic_ Heirlooms was received so well! I hope to hear more from you! :)

* * *

**Chapter 2: The Reflections in Another**

Vader meets the rebellion leader and is torn about his mission.

* * *

Hopefully I am writing this Star Wars area well, and hope you have enjoyed the efforts applied to this chapter as much as I have! Each word written in a review increases my writing adrenaline, so please let me know what you think. Your reviews affect this story greatly, each and every one! :)

_**God Bless,**_

_Heaven's Prayers_


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